


i will march down an empty street (like a ship into the storm)

by surely_silly



Series: seven, eight, set them straight [15]
Category: I Kill Giants (2017), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Norwegian Mythology & Folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surely_silly/pseuds/surely_silly
Summary: Mustafu's very wet; it was one of the first things Fuyumi told Shouto. A small city cut into the sandy coast far from the high rise of Tokyo proper. A great opportunity for a new start, a fresh one.Right?
Series: seven, eight, set them straight [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/843435
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19
Collections: BNHA Anonymous Fic Writing Contest





	i will march down an empty street (like a ship into the storm)

**Author's Note:**

> *jazz hands* surprise! happy new year!
> 
> I wrote this for the BNHA Anonymous Fic Writing Contest, Fusion category!
> 
> [BNHA x I Kill Giants (2017)](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/ENPCTD3UwAAf64D?format=jpg&name=4096x4096)
> 
> [brief ableist language & slurs, bullying, references to child abuse & neglect, character death]

Shouto can barely hear the radio in the kitchen over the static in his head.

Outside, the day's grey, the fog a thick and fluffy white, so much so that he can only see the vague outline of the next house over, his breath frosting over the window glass. He shifts, the pages of his book crinkling against his chest, and slowly the clouds brush against the ground and carry on. 

"Oh!" says a voice, and he turns his head. Fuyumi blinks at him, folders held tight under her arms. "Shouto, I thought… You can go explore, you know? I know it's all so new… maybe go to the beach? Get some fresh air? I'd go but I need to finish this before Monday… and unpack some more boxes..." 

_ Explore? _he thinks, and the idea is a foreign one. 

He… can just go explore? It sounds so easy, as if he needn't have asked, as if he could have just done so. Huh.

Shouto unfurls from the window cubby. "Okay," he says, and her face brightens. It's been two days since the last truck arrived, since Fuyumi brought him here. Getting out would be… nice. "I'll go to the beach."

"Don't forget your coat," she says, and smiles at him. "I should have dinner on in a few hours, but just stay safe, okay?"

"Okay," he repeats, and closes his book.

Mustafu's very wet; it was one of the first things Fuyumi told Shouto. A small city cut into the sandy coast far from the high rise of Tokyo proper. A great opportunity for a new start, a fresh one. Natsuo had agreed. No one knows where Touya is, so he said nothing at all. Shouto hadn't minded either way, so.

So, here he slips on a bright yellow raincoat over his sweater, and tall boots over his thick socks. He leaves with Fuyumi humming along to the radio somewhere in the background, and doesn't look back as he crosses the stone path from the front door to the street and out into the outside world.

Their house sits on the rise of a hill, and downtown is a dark shadow off into the distance across a curl of roiling sea, and pale sections of sand. They drove by the last stretch on their way up and up, and now Shouto's going down and down. The streets are quiet, and the closer he gets to the foot of the hill does he see more people, more cars. It's nothing like Tokyo, greys and blues and dirty white. Green, when the sun is out, before the cold rolled through yesterday. 

Here, nobody knows the Todoroki name, and Shouto appreciates that even as a few passerby do double takes, and stare.

He can smell the salt on the air, the wind a feathered hand against his face. A blurred dark line in the far distance, the ocean bleeds into the sky, and Shouto can't really tell where one begins or where one ends. The rush of the tide lapping roughly against the coast draws him down sandy steps, a hand trailing the scratchy trailing grass.

There's not a soul in sight, and Shouto almost feels lost, intangible, until he runs a hand against the peeling and weather worn lifeguard tower. It's solid, there in the now, and without much thought, he ducks under it. One leg up, then the other over, he sits himself across the lowest crossbeam. A cord of foul air raises the hair along his neck, and Shouto wrinkles his nose, but as quick as it came, it's gone.

With a sigh, Shouto tips his head over, the damp wood of the tower unforgiving beneath his arms, and stays for awhile. It's quieter here; the city never seemed this solemn, this alone. Here, he can see the stars at night, and sleep without much worry. Here, there is Fuyumi and simpler meals but here there's also no screaming and no yelling. 

It's nice, if lonely.

"—eleven, twelve, thirteen," murmurs a voice, and Shouto picks his head up, "fourteen, fifteen… sixteen."

_ Hm, _he thinks, turning, and watches as a boy falls to a crouch just behind the tower and it's vague shadow. 

The messenger bag and the jean jacket have clearly seen better days, the latter stitched up the spine with something that looks like words, but from the unkempt hair rises high but limp and tattered looking rabbit ears. There's the crinkle of plastic, and the soft mutter of words just below Shouto's hearing. Curious, he unfurls from the crossbeam of the tower, shoes sinking in the sand, and manages to peer just over the other boy's shoulder and spy a tied loop of hidden rope. Shouto imagines the length, and looks down the swath of sand.

It must cover the whole shoreline.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and stumbles back as the boy yelps, flails backwards as he shoots to his feet.

"Nothing!" he immediately denies, whirling around. Wide green eyes meet Shouto's, and the not so subtle shuffling draws his gaze to the boy's feet as he kicks sand back over the rope. "N-Nothing at all!"

Shouto frowns, and pauses. This is a new start, for him as much as it is for Fuyumi. _ Be nice. _ "Okay," he allows, and considers the tied flannel, the ratty shoes and ripped jeans, the green tips of his black hair. That man would _ horrifically _disapprove. "My name's Todoroki Shouto, I'm new to town."

The boy glances away, and then back again, face going slack with something like surprise. "O-Oh, hello," he says, and takes a moment to scoop up his flung plastic bag. Whatever's in it smells bad. "Um, well, I'll just be going then…"

Hm. This is harder than expected. "Would you care to be my friend?" he asks, and the boy pauses, hunches his shoulders. "I'm not doing anything… I could help you with whatever it is you're doing?"

"You… You should s-stay away from me. P-Pick somebody else," he stammers, turning away, and Shouto doesn't know what to do with that. "You have pretty eyes and, and cool hair; I'm sure you'll make friends in no time…"

Blinking, Shouto touches at the hair by his ear. "You… think my hair is cool?" he says, and no one's ever said that before. It's just premature greyness leeching away what's left of the red. Who finds that cool? "And my eyes…"

_ What about the scar? _

Almost as if he can't help himself, the boy swings back around, head nodding with such force Shouto thinks the rabbit ears might fly off. "H-Heterochromia is pretty uncommon and this is a small town so…" he says, trailing off under his breath. His eyes meet Shouto's again, skitter away again. "It s-should more than make up for the, the, um, yeah."

"Thank you," he says, and the boy's face darkens with a flush before he turns on a heel to climb up the sloping sand and through the grass. "Ah, but I didn't…"

The boy crests the hill, looks back for a moment, and then he's gone.

Strange. Shouto looks back down at where the rope is just barely hidden, an attached can. So many questions, and no answers. He kicks more sand over it, careful of the hook, before heading home.

For some reason, Shouto doesn't tell Fuyumi about the boy. He merely tucks into the seared mackerel, and when pressed lightly, he slowly, maybe haltingly, tells her about the walk down, the grey sea. It makes her happy, eyes bright behind her glasses, but he doesn't feel ready to tell her the rest. He wants to return triumphant with a friend, maybe friends, and surprise her. It's the least he can do, assuage her worries where he's concerned, and.

As luck may have it, Shouto sees the boy again. 

The walk to school is a little longer for Shouto, so he leaves earlier, declining to ride with Fuyumi. The trek might yet yield friends, and the day is clear and sunny if chilly, so he easily spots the boy on the sidewalk halfway there, the only unmoving figure, staring up and up at the sky, fixated on a fluttering cloud of black. He's dressed in what looks like the same clothes from the other day, if more worn and less tidy, beneath the same jean jacket.

"Can I look too?" Shouto asks, and the boy yelps, rabbit ears flopping, and the feathered telescope drops into Shouto's hands as he falls over. Unsure, he raises it to his eye and peers at the swarming flock of birds. "Thanks… this seems cool?"

"Y-Yeah, um, totally cool," he stammers, and Shouto glances at him as he scrambles onto his feet. He looks worried, if not scared, and gently takes the telescope back. "Dark omens are, are really… cool."

Weirdly enough, that sounds familiar. "What does that mean?"

He glances away, lips twisting. "N-Nothing good," he whispers, and hefts the bag. It's then Shouto notices the other one, smaller and dirty and glittery, a very worn and thin strapped sunflower. "Nothing good at all."

Shouto briefly glances up at the birds again, but they're gone. Doesn't press for a clearer answer. "Mind if I walk with you?"

"W-Why?"

"Why not?" Shouto counters, confused. Is making friends always this hard? "You're the only person I know in all of Mustafu besides my sister."

He gives no answer to that, weary and wary-eyed, and the rest of the journey is spent without talking. Shouto doesn't mind the silence, and doesn't bother to end it. It's companionable, he thinks, perhaps even nice, but comes to a swift end once they reach the school's gates. 

Shouto looks away at a soft, "_Shouto-kun!_" and when he turns back, the boy's gone, vanished into the crowd just as Fuyumi trots up, folders in hand, and clothed bento in the other. Ah. He forgot his lunch.

"Sorry, I just saw someone I need to speak with, text me if you want to ride home with me, okay?" Fuyumi says, smiling sheepishly, eyes looking past him. Once the bento is in his hands, she rushes off, calling over her shoulder, "Have a great first day!"

Bemused, he watches her go before heading to his first class. Shouto only catches snatchs of her over the course of the day, flitting to and fro, and doesn't see the boy again until lunch. He's sitting alone, the only empty table in the whole cafeteria, and Shouto takes that for the invitation it has to be. 

Startled eyes flash up as Shouto sets his bento down. "I hope you don't mind," he says, and then eyes the sprawled notebook and lunch tray. "Your drawings are very good."

"T-Thanks?" he says, and tucks the book closer. "... Why do you keep trying to talk to me?"

Shouto shrugs, and sits before tugging the cloth open. "You seem nice," he says.

"_Oh._"

With a nod, Shouto glances once more at the drawing cradled in the other boy's arms. It looks like a monster of some sort, multi-eyed and roaring. The yellow figure braced against it wields a giant hammer, and has long rabbit-like ears raising high from his head. Shouto looks up, eyes the dirty and quite sad looking ears on the other boy's head, opens his mouth, and—

Flinches when hands slam down on the edge of the table.

"Hey, shitty nerd," sneers a voice, "spreading your crazy around again? What did I _ tell _you?"

Heart fluttering, Shouto takes a shaky breath, eyes following the arms up. There are three of them, but the one looming over the table barely spares him a look before leaning in closer, blond haired and red eyed. The other boy's looking at Shouto though, eyes wide, but not like earlier. Surprised, maybe, but hardened, all of a sudden.

"G-Go away, Kacchan," he stutters, and looks up, hands fisting. "J-Just because you're pretending everything is, is okay doesn't mean it—"

Lip curling, 'Kacchan' grabs the boy by the collar, hauling him up, and Shouto finds himself shooting to his feet as well. "Don't _ call _ me that_,_" he snarls, and Shouto feels all of four years old again, facing that man for the first time, the practice javelin too heavy in his hands. "Fucking _ psycho— _"

"Midoriya Izuku!" calls a voice, cutting clean through the noise. The cafeteria shutters, and Shouto looks, sees a teacher. "Midoriya Izuku! Todoroki-sensei's office, _ now. _"

There's a pause, a startled breath, and 'Kacchan' let's go of him with a sharp hiss. The boy—_Midoriya?_—ducks his head, lip caught between his teeth, and doesn't even glance at Shouto as he gathers up his things. Not even when one of the others shoves him from behind, when someone whispers, "_He's so weird,_" and the cafeteria watches him leave. 

A shoulder hits Shouto's, and he stumbles a little. "Stay away from him if you know what's good for you," 'Kacchan' growls as they brush by, and.

"Why?" Shouto asks, because. Because he's tired of being told what to do, and what not to do, how to live his life. "Why should I?"

_ You're just a bully, _ he thinks, and he's tired of those too. _ Why would I listen to you? _

'Kacchan' pauses, and looks at Shouto from over his shoulder, everything growing quiet. The anger is still there, but there's something weird about it, and Shouto can't place it—

"He'll get you killed."

Shouto inhales sharply, and the sound rushes back in, then they're gone. All he can do is sit back down at the table, unsure and bewildered, pick at his lunch and not eat it at all. Midoriya doesn't come back, merely scuttles into the back of Shouto's class with barely an hour left to the day, and. And, what?

_ He'll get you killed. _

That's not funny, and 'Kacchan' didn't seem to be laughing. 

_ Wonderful first day, _he thinks to himself, cell phone limp in his hand as he stands in the doorway to the front lockers.

'Kacchan' has Midoriya pinned again, one fist in his collar, the other holding the sunflower bag just out of reach above their heads, and it's just. What does it all matter?

_ Psycho— _

_ Todoroki-sensei's office— _

_ He's so weird— _

"Let go of him," says a voice, and Shouto's aware that it's his, that he's saying these words, but it's like he's taken a step to the left. "Let—"

"_Bakugou-kun!_" snaps another voice, and they startle, 'Kacchan' stepping back from Midoriya, bag still clutched in his hand. Shouto wants to sigh in relief. "What's going on?"

The principle narrows her eyes, Fuyumi shifting anxiously behind her as no one utters a word. 

"Bakugou-kun, my office, _ now,_" she continues, and 'Kacchan' sneers, shoving Midoriya back with the force of the bag in his hands as he turns away. "You're staying behind an hour today. Let's go."

Fuyumi shoots Shouto an apologetic look, and he shakes his head, smiles just a little before she turns away. It drops from his face as soon as her back's turned, and he looks at Midoriya, clutching tightly to the small bag as if for dear life. 

"Mind if I walk with you?" Shouto asks, and his head jerks up, eyes tear rimmed. 

Midoriya smiles, wobbly and hesitant. 

Somehow, they end up back on the beach, sun warmed and dyed. With the blue sky and bright light, it looks more alive, more beautiful in a different way, just _ more. _Midoriya's dragging his book bag along in the sand, the smaller one tucked at his side, and Shouto closes his eyes briefly to the breeze.

"T-Thank you, again, though," Midoriya says, glancing up at Todoroki. "No one's ever… ever stood up for me before. It was very brave."

Shouto shrugs it off. "It was the right thing to do. I don't like bullies."

"A-Ah," he says, and looks away. "Not that, that Kacchan's wrong, or that he's a bully really, it's just…"

_ He'll get you killed. _

"How's that?" Shouto says, and keeps the disbelief out of his voice.

Midoriya slows to a stop, and Shouto does the same, meets his eyes squarely. "You'll think I'm crazy, just… just like everyone else," he says, soft. "Kacchan's r-right about one thing, if nothing… else. It's, it's dangerous to be around me."

Shouto feels like a broken record, but, equally soft, he repeats, "_How?_"

There's a long moment where nothing is said, the only noise the rolling waves and the gull cries. Midoriya looks at Shouto, just really looks, and his free hand falls to rest on the little sunflower bag. Whatever he's looking for, he must find it by the short nod he gives, the steely determination overtaking the uncertainty.

"C-Come with me," he says, and what can Shouto do but follow.

It's not far, where Midoriya takes him. The lifeguard tower is just visible in the distance, sun bleached white in the light, but that's not where they go, it's not the rope that he leads Shouto to. It's an overturned boat, tarp-wrapped and tucked tightly into the sand. Midoriya ducks inside, under it, and Shouto hesitates, just for a moment, before following, and.

There are few words to describe it. If Shouto were Natsuo or Fuyumi, he might call it enchanting, perhaps even fantastical or magical, like out of a fairy tale, but. He's neither of them, not nearly as fictionally read, and so he's at a loss because he doesn't think those words really do it any sort of justice.

From the ceiling, drying seaweed hangs, fish netting and strung seashells and driftwood, tied books swaying gently. The scattered light shines brilliant and rainbow-colored through thoughtfully placed prisms, the walls glittering like powered glass. The air is sweet, like fresh cooked fruit, and more books litter the makeshift shelves and tables, the piled cushions. Midoriya smiles hesitantly from the furthest corner, a large book spread across his lap, and Shouto settles gingerly beside him.

"It's said," Midoriya starts, barely a tremble in his voice, "that all giants are descended from Ur, the first giant, the misbegotten son of the Earth and Sky."

_ Twenty miles tall, and all alone, the only one. He's so lonely, that in his anguish he tears himself apart… giving birth to giants. _

_ The first dark kings of the Earth. _

_ Or, at least that's what they would like the world to think. _

Midoroya shifts, hand splaying across the howling rendition pictured in the book. It looks handwritten, hand painted. 

Looks handed down, hand worn.

_ There were just two siblings, names lost to time. Born from an unknown beginning, they only had each other. They held great and terrible power in different ways, but no one knew this until later, long after they grew lonely. _

_ The first of the two, perhaps older by a lifetime, could take and give. They had everything, but in their anguish, they tore themselves to pieces and gave them away. _

_ For a price. _

_ The second of the two had nothing, and in their anguish, found the world. Saw the world tear itself apart in the price it paid. _

_ They fought, and the world trembled. _

"Giants, is maybe a misnomer, but," Midoriya says, and Shouto blinks, the thrall of the tale losing its hold, like a bedtime story meant to keep children from trouble. "They're huge, larger than any person, and come in all sorts of flavors. They hunger for what they've lost."

_ But they are merely the weakest of the strongest, heralded by Harbingers, watchers, and the last warning. _

"Like… a dark omen?" 

_ Shouto, come Home right now, it's not safe_—

Midoriya nods, and the next page paints them as ghoulish specters, pitless eyes and unbound from the earth. "Except, it's too late by then; the giants are already there. Little is known about them, where they came from or who they really are, though..."

_ Even worse though… are Titans. _

_ Hearts of blackest opal. A laugh that boils your blood in your body. Eyes that make the sun go out. _

"Can you imagine that? Something so horrible, the sun won't shine on it," Midoriya whispers, and Shouto can feel the hair rise along his neck at the thought. "I can only imagine what they gave up to become that… but none have been seen since the dawn of recorded history."

Shouto shivers. "Good," he says, and. And, this? This is fantastical, horrifying, but. "How does no one see them?"

With a somewhat helpless sounding giggle, Midoriya shuts the book. "P-People write them off as tornados, earthquakes, other natural p-phenomenon, accidents, but a lot of the time… it's, it's not." He replaces the book upon a stack, stands. Shouto is slow to rise, to follow him as he plucks what looks like the plastic bag from the other day off a hook, and duck back outside. "Easy to, to hide behind, easy enough to explain, but h-hard to see."

"What do you do when you see the omens?" Shouto asks, blinking the sun from his eyes, staring at the stitched back of the other boy's jean jacket. "If one… comes?"

Midoriya pauses, hair running bright green from the light. "I'll hunt for them," he says, and turns around, haloed by the low sun. Shouto feels cold, all of a sudden. "Then I'll kill them before they can kill us. I kill giants."

_ He'll get you killed. _

It almost feels like too much, like he's in over his head, but the warnings were there, laid out loud and clear. Shouto wants to know more even as something within him wants to run away. 

"... How?"

Almost shyly, he folds a hand across the top of the sunflower bag, eyes cast down. "Within this modest sheathe, slummers the finest war hammer ever made," Midoriya says, as if he's reciting a script. Or, repeating something once spoken. "Forged from a fragment of bone from the second sibling's jaw, a silver of their soul, and every soul before mine… one perfect strike can fell even the tallest of giants."

Shouto opens his mouth, to say what, he doesn't know. To ask for proof? To ask for yet more clarity? He doesn't know, and doesn't get the chance. Midoriya shifts, eyes narrowing, casting far over Shouto's head, and then back out to sea, the wind turning almost frenzied, like that of an approaching storm. 

Midoriya tosses the bag back at the boat, rushing past Shouto, sure footed against the sand. "Wait, Midoriya—" he starts, and the boy pauses.

"I… I have to go. You s-should really stay away from me," he says, and the stammer is back, full force. "K-Kacchan wasn't wrong; people close to, to me get hurt."

And, then he's gone, yet again.

Shouto stands there for a moment, bewildered and unsure. He looks at the clouded dark sky, looks hard, and listens to the lap of the waves. Does it sound different? Does it look different? He can't tell, but something isn't… right.

Something isn't adding up.

  
  


_ He'll get you killed. _

  
  


_ Every soul before mine. _

  
  


"Who died?" Shouto wonders, and the sky flashes with lightning.

Fuyumi's laid out on the couch when he gets home, an arm flung over her eyes. He doesn't begrudge her the exhaustion, and quietly shuts the door. She startles a little anyway, sitting up as Shouto sheds his raincoat, her hair flattened along one side.

"Shouto, you didn't answer my texts," she says, and looks him over. "Are you… are you friends with Midoriya-kun?"

"I think so, yes," he admits, kicking off his shoes. Cat's out of the bag. "We hung out for awhile, sorry."

She nods, expression lightening. "Oh okay, that's good, he could use a friend…"

And, for a moment, Shouto considers asking her. Not anything she won't share as the school psychologist, just what everyone seems to know. Something happened to Midoriya, someone close to him, and how he's coping… no one understands, not really. He considers asking, and then decides not to. What a novelty it must be, to meet someone who knows next to nothing about him, and that. That's something Shouto understands, at least.

"He's a little weird, but nice," Shouto offers, tentatively. "Very… imaginative. I like him."

Which, he quickly learns to be an understatement. 

As a week, two, three, slips by, Shouto finds himself never alone. After classes, hesitantly, haltingly, he finds himself tugged along. To the sandy beach, where they skip stones unsuccessfully across the waves, or to the rather comforting shelter of Midoriya's sanctuary. He shows up to class more, bedraggled and scruffy, but a stalwart presence two seats behind Shouto for most of the day. 

Bakugou, as Shouto's come to learn, steers clear after a few more cursory jabs. He still doesn't know what the story there is, what everyone seems to know, but.

He doesn't have to wait long.

"Hey, um, you know that, that giant in the forest I m-mentioned?" Midoriya says, shifting from foot to foot as they wait their turn to be divided up for gym class. "It's… It's getting braver, and I, I think… we have to find it."

_ We have to find it. _

It's been mentioned briefly, off hand comments about bait, ignored traps, and as an explanation for the constant stream of twigs in his hair and mud on his knees, but. This is a first. Shouto isn't sure what he's done to prove himself, isn't terribly surprised by yet another one-eighty in attitude, isn't really about to say no.

"After classes then," he agrees, and Midoriya brightens, much like his sister does when he spends less time cooped up in the house.

The forests are the one thing so far Midoriya hasn't shown him besides his own home, and really… Shouto should've known nothing could be that easy.

Midoriya disappears over lunch, and he's left to eat quietly at what's become their table. It's not unexpected, Fuyumi tries to vary the missed class time with missed lunch time, but Shouto's barely had the time to bundle up his bento when the fire alarm goes off. The cafeteria is quickly emptied, teachers bundling them in the halls and then outside, and even from there, the sirens are loud.

Loud enough Shouto doesn't notice Midoriya until he tugs on his sleeve. 

"S-Sorry!" he squeaks when Shouto jumps, whirling on him. "Sorry, I didn't… mean to."

With a shaky breath, Shouto shakes his head. "It's okay," he says, and then narrows his eyes. "Why… do you have our stuff?"

Laden with his own book bag and jacket, Midoriya offers up Shouto's bag and yellow rain coat. "I, I know you said after classes but… but it's really urgent. I don't think we can w-wait."

"But, there are three periods left…" Shouto starts, trailing off as Midoriya's expression shutters. Ah. Is this a test? He doesn't like it, but it's not like he's never skipped class before. Just. Just not on Fuyumi. "... Are you sure?"

Midoriya nods, hair flopping. A few leaves fall out, and Shouto watches them fall to the ground before taking his jacket. 

Getting away unnoticed is unfortunately rather easy. They step back and back from the crowd, and no one notices. The saving grace, Shouto feels, is that it's another nice day, if overcast and breezy, the ground only just spongey beneath their feet as they run. 

They don't immediately head for the woods, though. Not very far from Shouto's own home, Midoriya ducks around a fenced in property cut flat into the sloping side of the hill, leads them through a gap behind the house. The yard is perhaps about as scraggly looking as Midoriya on a pretty bad day, and Shouto hesitates as he's lead to the back door of a garage; it's paint looks eaten through, peeling from age or moisture both, uncared for or done wrong. The other boy digs a key out from the flapping pockets of the flannel tied at his waist and unlocks it without explanation, merely a quick nervous glance.

_ This must be his home, _Shouto thinks, the revelation fairly stunning.

He doesn't comment, just follows Midoriya's lead as he beelines for a half covered red wagon propped haphazardly over a folded bundle of tarp. All around them boxes tower ominously, discarded tools and old rusted bikes; there's no room for a car of any sort here, the garage door blocked with more boxes. For a moment, Shouto wavers, unsure and shuffles on his feet just in the door. Midoriya pays him no mind, digging within the wagon. 

Everything seems less than well cared for, that Midoriya may well be the only one who regularly comes here at all. It's dusty and dirty from tramped in mud, and still as a grave. It feels like one, if Shouto's honest, and he briefly grips his left wrist with his other hand before his attention wanders. A couple boxes are only half-heartedly closed, and Shouto finds himself peering into the nearest one, folding back the crumpled flaps.

The dim light gleams a little off the metal, and frowning, he turns what seems the first of many award plaques over, the corner scraped as if dropped or thrown.

_ Employee of the Year: Bakugou Mitsuki, _it says, the engraved words dark with lack of care and who knows what else.

"Huh," Shouto says, and puts it back down. He pauses, and then closes the flaps, tucking them firmly shut. "Do you… live here?"

"Um, yeah…" comes Midoriya's voice, hesitant, and something falls with a muffled thud somewhere in the gloom. 

Shouto thinks about the keys in his pocket. "By yourself?"

There's a pause. "N-No… I live with Kacchan and his dad…"

Perhaps, then, not the owner of the box full of scientific awards, then. Not a shared last name. The pieces are fitting together into a somewhat sad picture. 

"Ahah!" Midoriya cries, and Shouto barely aborts a flinch. Who is he to talk, really? His own life paints a fairly sad picture. "O-Okay, I've got the, uh, bait… W-We should go."

And, so they do. Back the way whence they came, through the house's unkempt yard with it's dark windows boring into their backs. It didn't much feel like a home, and Midoriya merely locks the door. Offers no more insight that Shouto cannot find the courage to ask for, but.

Again, they run.

Town quickly fades to open air, wet streets to sandy field and then trees upon trees and moss coated ground. Midoriya leads the way undeterred, drawing from his bag one of the jars of red glittering jelly that he'd stuffed into it. Shouto can only trail after him, damp detritus folding beneath his once clean shoes. Midoriya scales a couple trees, checking on cut open water jugs hanging from the branches. The bait lures, he's been told, strawberry jam with glitter and mushroom dust, clipped fingernails and gummy bears.

Bait that the giant has been ignoring.

"The, the idea was to l-lure it to the old train graveyard, but…" Midoriya says, trailing off, stowing away the now empty jar. "Something's making it, it act weird. Like it's… leery? Wary?"

Shouto hums, eyes the length of the trap attached to that lure and the rather large bludgeoning weight on the other end. Is that a tire? "Maybe because there are two of us?"

Midoroya considers that, eyebrows furrowing. "Maybe… oh!" He scrambles for the flap of his much abused messenger bag, and pulls out the sketchbook full of his drawings. "I, I know you don't actually believe me, but… but I think I know what your weapon will be, e-eventually."

Huh. That's the first time he's ever called Shouto out, but it's nice to be included nonetheless. "Oh?"

With a small smile, he flips the book around, and it's them. Standing triumphant above a downed monstrous looking blob, Midoriya holds a large hammer that glows against the darkened background. Shouto finds himself drawn at his side, arm held back and lit with orange and red and a cold looking blue.

_ Oh. _

His breath stutters, heart flopping painfully. "Is… Is that…?" he says, and his mouth goes dry. He can't know that. This. "Where—"

Oblivious, Midoriya flips the book shut. "I, I can't tell if it's like a spear or, or something, but I think you—"

—_need to try harder! Dammit, Shouto, you were supposed to be perfect. Do it again. _

_ Throw it again. Harder. Throw it harder_—

Shouto can still feel the phantom aches in his arms, the bleeding calluses on his hands, and blinding pain as he tore something in his shoulder. The scar on his face burns.

How does Midoriya know that? Shouto's never said anything—

"_And this is what is left, of the littlest sibling? What a shame, what a waste,_" hisses a voice, and everything seems to stop. "_You've been lucky little rabbit, but even with the help of the firebug and dragon spawn, you will fail, won't you?" _

Shouto whirls, heart pounding, but no one's there. _ No one's there. _

Midoriya presses into his back, fingers curling tight into his jacket, whispers, "_Harbingers,_" before saying louder, with the weakest of confidence, "S-Shut up! We won't… we won't fail!"

The laugh is faint on the wind, barely loud enough for Shouto to hear over his own racing heart, but it makes his skin crawl nonetheless. "We shall see, won't we, little rabbit?" hisses the air, like nails on a chalkboard or shattering glass, and the ground _ shakes._

_ Thud. _

_ Thud. _

_ THUD. _

There's a gasp, and Shouto barely keeps from falling face first into tangled undergrowth when Midoriya jerks him to the side. He stumbles, the other boy's grip in his jacket unyielding, and staggers as he's pushed into the sparse cover of a twisted tree and some fallen logs. Birds squawk in the distance, Shouto's head snapping to attention at the sound.

At some point, the fog had grown thicker, the overcast sky bleeding into the ground, and the space between the trees feels suffocating. A dark shape sways in the distance, growing larger with each _ thud, thud, thud._

"_Giant,_" Midoriya hisses, crouched by his knees, and his voice doesn't shake.

_ Oh, _ Shouto thinks, fingers digging into the bark of the tree. _ Oh. _

Midoriya's been telling the truth, then. Not a personal truth, but an actual truth, a worldly truth. He wasn't making anything up.

_ I think I'd rather it all have been fake, _Shouto thinks, a little hysterical, and—

Something snaps, something wet and weak beneath Shouto's foot as he leans back, away. Everything slows, goes deathly still, and his mind runs blank. The air shakes with a snarl, and the next moment is a blur. There's a yank on his sleeve, fingers curling hard against his own, digging painfully. They run, but not like before. This. This is as desperate as determined, and each ragged breath sears against Shouto's dry throat, the cold air hurting his lungs.

Trees fly past, and soft dirt flies in their wake. It feels like an eternity and no time at all before the sky blooms free of the canopy overhead. Midoriya ducks, and Shouto's barely of the mind to copy him, zigzaging ropes passing narrowly over their heads. Midoriya whirls to a stop, but Shouto isn't prepared, sprinting past before it really registers, and turns on a foot, shoe sinking into mud.

He stumbles to a jog backwards, and one step. Two. Three—

His heel catches on something hard, and with a barley bitten off yelp, Shouto hits the ground, mud flying and suddenly sinking into his overalls and up his sleeves as he lands on his side right into the middle of a puddle. The cold is jarring, and he can hardly hear over the thunder beat of his heart in his ears, gasping, and any and all words die a pitiful squeak choked in the back of his throat.

_ Thud. _

_ Thud. _

_ Thud. _

"Here!" Midoriya yells, and swings his arms, the ears on his head flopping. "Over here!"

In the distance, Shouto can just see the looming figure, taller than even the sturdiest of the lowest branches. 

_ Thud. _

_ Thud. _

_ Thud! _

Shouto can just see as it pauses, turns away away.

Like a mirage, it sidesteps into the thick fog and trees. _Thud, thud, thud._ Shouto can barely understand it. It's giving up? That easy? Which.

Which is good. They can't… can't fight that, they can't _ compare. _

On shaky arms, Shouto drags himself out of the puddle, the cold seeped into his socks and the bottom of his shirt. He lost his bookbag somewhere back the way they came. "M-Midoriya—"

Midoriya screams, a wordless howl full of frustration, but the giant wanders away, the foggy silhouette fading from sight. Shouto scrambles up, and stumbles over to him just as he seems to give up.

"M-Midoriya!" Shouto shouts, startled, and is really the only thing that keeps the other boy from collapsing completely. 

He shudders, finds his footing, and shrugs off Shouto's hands, his bookbag sliding off his shoulder with a wet _ plop._ Midoriya falls into a crouch, head hidden in his arms and knees. "Why?" he shrieks, the noise muffled but horrible. "W-Why isn't this working? Why, why, _ why?_"

Shouto's never felt this lost. Not even when Touya left. When Natsuo left. When Touya stopped calling him back. He feels helpless, and he raises his hands, flexes them, and drops them back to his side. Out in the open like this, the clearing free of trees expect stacked piles if branches and wet ground, Shouto doesn't know what to do.

He's only felt this scared twice before. 

The heavy footsteps fade into the distance, and Midoriya stays where he is, folded in on himself, and shaking, hands dug ruthlessly into his hair. 

"I, I have to kill it, them, I have to," he whimpers, muffled by his knees, and Shouto edges closer, hears, "_Mama I'm so sorry. _"

_ M-Mama…? _

Shouto presses lightly at his left eye, brushing the wet hair behind his ear, and ignores the tremble in his fingers, his heart flopping painfully as the adrenaline wears thin. He exhales, shudders, and drops down beside Midoriya. There's a tense moment where he thinks the other boy will pull away from where their shoulders touch, except then he leans in, presses closer.

Midoriya lives with Bakugou and his dad. Bakugou bullies him. No one talks about any other family. They all think he's crazy.

_ Bakugou Mitsuki. _

Who was that? A mom? A brother? A cousin? That could be anyone, and yet. Whatever it is, Midoriya needs Fuyumi anyway, even if everyone is wrong exactly about why.

"My… My father died, it's why we moved here." Next to him, Izuku stiffens, but Shouto picks idly at a stick by their feet and drags the tip through the wet mud. Here, far from all town life, it feels like they're the only ones in the world. "He was famous, an Olympian, but it was never enough for him. I'm… sad that he's gone, but I'm not too."

For everything, they still know so little about each other. Shouto thinks that should change, if they really are to be friends. Too bad he isn't starting with his favorite color.

A fine tremble travels through where their shoulders touch. "... How did he die?"

Most people don't ask that. Shouto doesn't know if he likes that better than _ I'm sorry for your loss _ or not. "He saved me. There was… an accident. He shoved me out of the way. We were arguing, or, well, _ he _ was arguing at me. I was running away again, and he caught up to me."

  
  


_ Touya's dead to us, stop looking for him, Shouto! _

  
  


"What happened?"

  
  


_ Just come home, it's not safe out right now— _

  
  


It's disjointed, what Shouto remembers. Father's yelling, the quiet night, and the flutter of wings. Then there was a thud, thud, _ thud_, and he was on the ground. Something went _ crunch. _"I don't remember," he says, more honest than he'd like. "They told me a car slipped over the road divider. It should have hit me."

"... It probably wasn't a, a car."

Shouto wants to be angry at that, he wants to maybe yell at Midoriya not to make light of this, but. But, he saw, didn't he? Shouto saw, and knows, at least, that he can't say without a doubt that it wasn't.

Midoriya clears his throat, and sags a little closer. "A… A giant killed my mom. It's why Kacchan hates me," he whispers, shudders. "My mom was like another mom for him when his actual mom got sick. After she… she died, his dad didn't know what to do, didn't know how to _ be,_ and for a long time, we were all Kacchan had."

There's a pause, and hoarsely, he says, "It… It was my fault. We were out here, a-alone, even when I _ knew _ better but..."

_ I just had to get him out of the house. It was a bad day, one of so many. He was my best friend, and I hated to see him so sad, so angry, even years later._

_ I don't know if it helped. I don't think it did._

_ He fell off a log, scraped his leg. We were out here for so long, my mom came looking for us. _

_ Something else found us first. _

"It… It was going to eat us," he chokes, and Shouto swallows, hard. "My mom got in the way. It chewed her up."

_ And, then he appeared. _

_ A giant killer. _

_ I don't remember much after that. A pack of feral dogs got blamed for it, for the other missing people, and Kacchan wanted to believe that. I don't blame him, especially for blaming me. _

_ How could I? _

"How c-could I?" Midoriya repeats, and scrubs hard at his eyes. "It was my fault, and, and if nothing else, I could shoulder the blame…"

_ But, I knew I could do more. I knew, if the man who saved us could do it, so could I._

_ I had to find him._

_ And, I did._

_ He turned me away, but I couldn't give up. There were more of those, those monsters out there, right? I couldn't give up, and I guess I wore him down._

_ He was hurt from the fight. Dying, by inches from before that, but. But, he didn't tell me that. He told me everything else but that. Taught me everything that he could before the moon rabbit took him home, sunflower glitter on the wind._

_ His name was Yagi Toshinori, the eighth wielder of the moon rabbit's hammer, One For All._

"Is that why the… ears?" Shouto asks, near a whisper, and Midoriya nods, sniffling.

"I miss my m-mom," he whimpers, "and I, I miss Kacchan. Sometimes I think… I think about giving this all up if, if I could just have that t-time back."

_ What I wouldn't give to have Mom back, _Shouto thinks, and words have never been his strong suit. What more he could offer would merely make this miserable moment even more so.

Slowly, he extends an arm, curls it across the other boy's shoulders. Midoriya doesn't shake it off, doesn't dance away with a wobbly and unsure look, much like a kicked puppy no longer used to affection. Shouto tugs him closer, like Fuyumi does, and hopes it helps as much as her hugs do.

Midoriya hiccups, and leans even more into the touch, a warm weight against Shouto's wet side. He doesn't know how long they huddle there, the muscles in his legs beginning to burn. His phone vibrates in his pocket, but even as he waits it out, Midoriya merely rubs at his eyes, his own phone silent.

_ Fuyumi, _Shouto thinks, and feeling guilty is a novel feeling.

"Maybe we should head back?" he offers, because.

Because what else can he say?

Midoriya sniffs, and rubs none too gently at his eyes as Shouto let's his arm drop away. "But… the giant?" he says, and glances at the unsprung traps that litter the edge of the trees. "It's_— _"

There's a scream, high and afraid, and a skin crawling howl that shakes the very air.

Midoriya's face goes slack with horror, and Shouto's flinches, nearly tips over when Midoriya shoots to his feet, hands braced on the little sunflower bag. Another scream, further, another howl, and it's from the way the giant went, away from the traps, away from what should have been a well done ambush. 

Someone else is out in the woods.

Shouto barely levers himself to stand before Midoriya bolts, and that nasty swell of fear is back. It makes him hesitate, watch for a long heartbeat as Midoriya's yellow flannel flaps behind him as he runs, and.

If. If all of this is real, then shouldn't they run away? Shouldn't Shouto? Midoriya's had this in hand for who knows how long now, and. And, he'd just been in the way, right?

_ I think it's some kind of spear or something_—

His right hand cramps at the thought, pulling on his fingers. The calluses on his hands are fading, but he can still feel a phantom twinge of pain in his left shoulder even now, months and months and months later. It hasn't actually hurt for a while now, but he'd lied. Shouto'd lied and said it did, and when pressed he'd made sure it had. 

Sometimes it hurts but it hasn't for a while now.

Shouto exhales, the air fogging in front of his eyes, and he runs.

Midoriya is a faded yellow blur ahead of him, and Shouto doesn't catch up to him. He trips where the other boy flies over fallen logs and tangled undergrowth, stumbles where his feet sink into more puddles and Midoriya doesn't stop.

There's another scream, a furious yell, and the _ thud, thud, thud, _cuts it off mid sound. Suddenly there, and then suddenly not, silenced. Shouto's lost sight of Midoriya by this point, but he's closer, the air and ground shaking beneath his feet. His body cries for water, for Fuyumi's warm home, but they're friends, Shouto likes to think, and he can't just leave Midoriya out here all alone.

So, he doesn't stop running, and nearly flies off his feet when once more something grabs ahold of his jacket. Shouto nearly slips out of it stumbling to a halt, whirling on what's caught it.

Midoriya, his hair full once more of leaves and thin scratches across his face, tugs hard on it, lips pressed thin and eyes wide. Shouto opens his mouth as he's pulled behind the thick tree, but a muddy hand slaps across his mouth just as there's another _ thud. _

It's close.

_ It's too close._

The ground shakes, and Midoriya's hand retreats, replaced by Shouto's to muffle his gasping breaths. 

_ Thud. _

_ Thud. _

_ Thud! _

There's a groan, wood splintering, and—

"_Dearest sibling,_" a voice croons, oily and languid smooth, "_have you picked another? Have you chosen your next victim? I can tell you're there, dearest sibling, I can feel you even now._"

Shouto can barely hear for the thunder beat of his heart in his ears, fear ugly and grasping, his fingers curling with a bruising force over his lips. Midoriya's eyes have gone distant, head tilted as if listening to something Shouto can't hear. There's the faint sound of a zipper opening, and.

And, a flash of light.

He hits the ground just as there is a bone rattling _ roar _ and the tree they were behind disappears, a _ crack, crack, crack _ as it's flung away. Dirt and debris fly, Shouto's arms folded over his head, and the ground shakes, another roar, _ pained _. 

_Midoriya, _he thinks, heart in his throat, and looks.

Barely a humanoid form made of mud and sludge, stagnant water and picked pollution, the giant is liquid given life. It snarls, bulbous eyes rolling, and Midoriya raises the glistening moon hammer in his hands, deflects the blow with the shaft before darting to the side. Another swing, sludge flying, a row of trees take the fall. Midoroya brings the mochi hammer's head down on the giant's outstretched arm, gleaming bone white and pale yellow, crackling with lines of red.

It screams, flesh bubbling, and convulses, mouth frothing black sludge. "_Dearest sibling, how I miss you!_" it cries, and another arm wiggles free from its chest. "_How I wish you would just come Home!_"

"_Kacchan!_"

Trapped in this third palm, Bakugou strains against the monstrous grip, eyes wide and bulging, sludge smeared across his face and hair flat to his head. He must have followed them, must have drawn the giant away, unwittingly, and. And, it's enough. 

Midoriya hesitates.

With a laugh, it swats him aside like an annoying fly. Midoriya slams into a tree to a gleeful howl, large square teeth gnashing together with a horrible grin. Bakugou yells out, the hammer tumbling from Midoriya's grasp as he falls to a boneless heap among the tree's gnarled roots. Shouto's frozen, scared, and it's all real.

_ This is real, _he thinks.

"_Dearest sibling, please come Home_," the giant sighs, and it's a mouthpiece. The words don't match to the flowing curve of its mouth, the click of its teeth. Something is speaking through this monster, something _ worse. _ "_I'll kill you, so please, just come Home_."

Then, it laughs, again. The hairs rise along the back of Shouto's neck, and Midoriya isn't getting up. _ Thud. Thud. Thud. _

Bakugou screams, struggling anew, and draws one of the giant's eyes. It slides down from its facsimile of a face to it's chest, and blinks at him, curves with malicious glee at his drenched form. 

Midoriya still isn't moving.

"_Now now…_" it soothes, and tightens its grip. Bakugou stiffens, and then falls limp, gasping. "_My sibling was always such a bleeding heart_…"

_ …one perfect strike can fell even the tallest of giants. _

_ Time, _ Shouto thinks, _ we need time. _

But, how? Here, Shouto is powerless, thin limbed and pathetic. Even Midoriya's weird faith in him can't help the dread filling his lungs as he crouches, snatches up a wayward rock. What will more time even do? If. If Midoriya isn't already—

"..._ Oh?_"

Shouto freezes, and only just realized the rock is no longer in his hand, is sliding down the giant's hip. He watches it sink from view, and looks up into too large eyes, dilated and focused on him, and him alone.

The giant's mouth curves with confusion, with distaste by the way it's eyes arch and lid, lips curling. "_Dabi, Dabi, Dabi,_" it tuts, chiding some unknown name. "_So hard to trust these days._"

It's a tingle in his fingers, a shiver up his spine, and Shouto dives to the side. The world shatters, the giant's fist just barely catching him in the blowback as it slams into the ground. Shouto tumbles, and scrambles up from a heap as it follows him, lazily like the cat that's already caught it's mouse.

"Trained, if only a little, but no power to speak of," it observes, and Bakugou stares wild-eyed at Shouto as if just noticing him. "Not yet, anyway… curious. Endeavor met his end, and left his fledgling spawn to flounder."

_ Endeavor? _ Shouto thinks, heart pounding, and aching from the less than good fall. 

Very few people knew that name. Very few people called _ him _that. Only strange people who liked to appear at odd hours, dressed weird, and never called each other by normal names. Shouto was never allowed to speak with them, not until he turned sixteen.

He turned sixteen five weeks after he died.

The giant shivers, and the blistered and cracked dry mud of its other arm flakes away and reforms. It flexes the fingers, considers them briefly before glancing back down at Shouto. "_How ironic, the heirs to Endeavour and All Might: firebug and dragon spawn, pitiful bunny kit, here together. So sad. Dearest sibling, this is who you would entrust my downfall to?_"

All Might. Shouto knows that name. Blonde hair and shadowed blue eyes. That man had never liked him, but Shouto never learned why. May not ever learn why, except.

_ His name was Yagi Toshinori, the eighth wielder of the moon rabbit's hammer, One For All._

But, there's no time to puzzle it out. The pins and needles of his hand intensifies, and Shouto doesn't quite manage to dodge the next swing. It hurts, it hurts _ so much, _ and by the time he stops rolling he can barely tell which way is up even with the sky bright in the corner of his eye. Another laugh, a _ thud, thud, thud, _and the fear and panic blisters in Shouto's chest, cuts away the haze of the pain and confusion. He pushes himself up, sees that the giant has turned away, back to Midoriya.

_ No, _ he thinks, and grits his teeth. His hands are almost ccompletely numb, the mud cold and bitter between his fingers, seeping further into his clothes. _ No! _

"_Dearest sibling,_" it cooes, a disgusting warble, and Shouto gets to his feet, his vision swimming. "_What will you do when I kill your precious pet? What will you_—"

_ Dammit, Shouto! _

Something heavy but light and cold and too hot falls just right into Shotuo's right hand. It hurts, the nerves waking up, and he knows. He knows, he just has to throw it. They need more _ time._

It glitters, it sings, and he thinks, _ No!_

A brilliant red and piercing blue, the javelin flies from his grasp. It cuts through the air and spears the giant in the middle of it's back with a meaty _ thud. _Shouto sucks in a startled breath, eyes blinking against the sparking light.

With a high pitched _ shriek, _the giant's back explodes, sludge and filth flying. It howls, a wounded animal sound, and whirls, eyes bulging and weeping a tarnished gold as the arm holding Bakugou sloughs off. Shouto falls to his knees, hands sparking and the right sleeve of his jacket just gone, and that's it. He can't move, can barely see.

He hopes whatever that was is enough.

_ Thud. _

_ Thud. _

_ Thud! _

The giant screams, looms, and.

And, bright and golden by the moon's hammer, Midoriya swings.

Everything washes white.

Shouto only realizes he's passed out somewhere between being rolled over and someone patting none too gently at his cheek. It's unawareness to sudden and panicked consciousness, the looming shadow unfamiliar. He bolts upright, and then immediately flops back down, hands flying to his forehead as the shadow flails backwards with a curse. _ Ow, ow. _

"No wonder you're so stubborn; is your skull made of _ rock_?" hisses a voice, and. Oh. That's Bakugou. "_Fucking hell._"

Peeking between the palms of his hands, Shouto squints, massages gingerly at their unfortunate point of contact. "I could say the same," he croaks, then pauses. "... Midoriya?"

Bakugou glares, something flashing dangerously in his eyes, and drops a hand to wave dismissively. "He's yelling at nothing by the trees," he says, like it hurts him to admit, and grimaces when a wet and mud caked clump of hair falls across his eyes. 

"He's not crazy."

A long pause follows, and, yes, Shouto can just hear Midoriya yelling at something. A Harbinger, maybe? 

"This could just be mass hysteria or something," Bakugou challenges, and briefly looks away. It sounds weak. Doubtful, even. "He has problems. I… _ I _have problems. I'm sure you do too, why else would you want to be that… that nerd's friend?"

_ Because if he's not crazy... then that means I was **wrong**. _

Shouto sighs, and sits up, slowly, the aches and cold beginning to reassert themselves. "That doesn't mean this wasn't real," he says, not denying anything, and tries to recall that prickly feeling in his hands. Pins and needles and hot and cold. They spark butterfly wing quick, bright and sharp. "_Right?_"

"_What the fuck,_" Bakugou whispers, and then there's a cry.

"_T-Todoroki-kun!_"

The weight is unexpected, as much as the hug, the arms winding around him tight with desperation. Shouto barely withholds a wince, stiffening, but he knows this kind of hug now too.

"I, I was so scared when I came to, you were on the ground and, and the _ giant_—" Midoriya gasps, and Shouto turns his head a little to keep his eyes free of hair. He glances at Bakugou gingerly holding himself away, a barely there tremble to his shoulders— "I, I almost got y-you killed! I'm so, so sorry! I shouldn't have brought you, it was being controlled by… by…"

_ Dearest sibling_—

The elder sibling. 

A breeze rushes by, bitter and biting, and Shouto shudders. "Let's go back to town, we can talk… later?" he wagers, and Midoriya scrambles back like a startled cat, unaffected by the one sided hug. He's the least soaked of them, but there are tears in his shirt and the flannel's gone, lost somewhere in the mud. The sunflower bag hangs snug at his side. "Okay?"

Midoriya nods, hair flopping, and Bakugou sneers, huffing and looking away.

Shouto doesn't know how he's going to explain this to anybody, but Fuyumi will at least hear him out. He's definitely going to have nightmares about this. 

Getting to his feet is hard. Every bump and ache makes itself known, a dull and throbbing pain. Shouto glances tiredly at where he last saw the giant, and doesn't quite know how to feel about the dry and brittle crater where it used to be, the mud baked dry. He doesn't quite know how to feel about any of this except tired.

_ Firebug and dragon spawn_—

So many questions. No answers to be seen. 

Definitely nightmare fuel, and with _ him _ gone… No. Shouto can't. Not… Not yet. 

_ S-Shouto! Oh no, Shouto, I didn't mean to. Oh God, I'm_—

The skin along his left eye crawls, and Shouto stumbles, breath stuttering, and stays a hand against Midoriya's concerned lunge. Bakugou merely glances away, arms wrapped around himself, teeth clenched.

_ He has problems. I… I have problems. I'm sure you do too… _

And, now there are more. For all of them. That was just one giant, puppeted by something worse, and. And, they're alone. Midoriya's _ been _alone. He shouldn't have to be. _They_ shouldn't have to be.

_ Not yet, _ Shouto tells himself, but it's a promise, that there will be an end to that _ yet. _He can't run away from his problems forever.

Bakugou ran. Midoriya never has. There are lessons to be learned from both, though Shouto doesn't know what exactly. He does know one thing, though. Those monsters would have continued to be out there whether he knew or not, and he can't say he wishes he didn't. Fuyumi has done so much for the family, this is the least he could do. For her, Natsuo and… and Mother. Like that man seemed to want.

_ I'll never escape you, will I? _ Shouto thinks, and slowly, slowly, slowly the forest turns back to town, to paved road and wet foggy streets. _ I… _

What was it that Midoriya said?

"... I kill giants," Shouto says, soft, and he can see Midoriya misstep out of the corner of his eye, hears Bakugou inhale sharply. "I—"

_ I kill giants. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos (even as comments) are always welcome!
> 
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